


Anakin

by lowstandards



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Gen, Stream of Conscious writing, but make it star wars, do not know what to tag this, it’s like.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowstandards/pseuds/lowstandards
Summary: After everything, why wouldn’t Anakin be angry? After being denied freedom, being denied reward- but that doesn’t make rage and violence the only path. The Force provides many answers, and sometimes provides them in those around us
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. A Pawn to Council

Of course Anakin was pissed.

He went from one servitude to another. 

There was still a Master, multiple Masters- a hierarchy, limitations, and the idea of working for the great honor of Freedom, perhaps unattainable— not everyone makes it. 

Training, work, trials, chores, rankings, servant, Slave, Padawan, Master.

And then to have all of that stripped away- being told he’s special but needing to over compensate because something about him is Different- he started late. A Slave having to prove he was equal. 

Fighting for this thing, to prove to a Council that always doubted him. 

Being owned, Property. Tatooine. Pod racing. A pawn to be gambled. 

Gambled in a race

In a War

Gaining Freedom. 

Cutting metaphoric chains

An equally symbolic braid.

Freedom, learning more. That great blinding promise. Owning himself for once in his life. Given that rank to show he had earned it. 

Then being taken away. 

A great honor of a Council seat devalued by a half truth. No title. No freedom. Still subservient. 

Of course Anakin was pissed. 

It was something Padmé desperately tried to understand. When he’d first come to her, near sobbing- angry beyond words and she held him and did not know the words to reassure him. 

Because what did she know of any of this? Her hardships in life had been so different. They had both been denied their freedoms, but her limits were because of her choice and her Duty to her people. 

Her Choice. 

Anakin was born into this, and his life as a Jedi had been surrounded with whispers of Destiny, the Force, and Chosen One. 

She could not know what it meant when he woke up in the middle of another night from restless sleep. She could not know what it meant when she could not smooth that crease between his brows and chase that stone grimace away from his face. She did not know why his heart beat so fast and why there was such an urgency, such a _F_ _ear_ within him. 

She _did_ know she was not alone in her concern. So long as there were those who loved him, she was not alone. 

Obi-Wan. 

His former Master had seen the anger first hand at the Council’s announcement. 

A great service, Anakin has done. But still he would not be named Master. 

However, he could serve a seat in Council. 

It was backwards and taunted him with a title he felt deserving of, and that they were so close to admitting he _was_ deserving of. 

Anakin, serving as General, had done so much for the Republic. It was hard to count the number of times he’d saved the Chancellor or intercepted a number of threats against the Jedi Order or Temple. They hoped the War was coming to an end but there was no denying that Anakin had been instrumental in the success of both the Republic and the Jedi. If that weren’t true, then it wouldn’t have made sense for them to pair off the two of them as done for so many crucial missions. And Anakin has even managed it all while training Ahsoka, a feat not many Jedi Knights would have been suited for. 

In all manners, Anakin had excelled. Obi-Wan said it not just because of pride in his training but because he found it true. 

He could, at most, give exception to Anakin’s temperament. There was no denying his former Padawan’s passion for things, and his habit of becoming more emotionally driven than a Jedi ought to. 

But he’d heard Anakin argue in his defense that the Jedi Order promotes Compassion, and that his drive was indeed a compassion and empathy for others’ wellbeing. Obi thought that might have been a stretch, knowing Anakin was quite smug in his reckless accomplishments. 

But behind the ego there was genuine kindness and care for what he did. Anakin wanted to be the hero - and not because he wanted to be The Hero but he wanted to help people. 

It was obvious in the way he had taught Ahsoka that he meant what he said. He sought compassion, and safety. 

He could go on for light years defining Anakin, since he had spent so long getting to know the man. Charged with the responsibility of teaching him, guiding him, and then becoming his partner. 

His other half both in this war and in the Force. 

They shared both sides of things. Destruction and Hope. 

And this was the climax of it?

Anakin, doomed to fail?

Obi-Wan doomed to watch it?

“They admit I deserve it yet still they deny me the rank of Master.”

Always playing neutral, always playing advocate. He almost hated himself for it, “Which makes the honor of a seat on Council all the greater.”

“Master,” old habits die hard. “Why did they grant me a Council seat if they do not give me the title?”

A pause a moment too long. That crease between his brows deepened and Obi-Wan knew the same severity must have been mirrored on his face. 

“The Council recognizes your closeness with the Chancellor.” So much hesitation in his voice- when was speaking to Anakin ever this difficult? What happened to the Padawan he could tease in the elevator because of his nervousness for negotiations, or training, and trials, and seeing Padmé. 

But that’s not who Anakin was anymore. Obi-Wan knew that. 

Padmé knew that. 

“The Chancellor?”

“Yes.” His voice was flat now. He’d given himself time to process it, but not time to accept it. He had gone to their quarters as soon as he was able and had to wait longer for his wife to join him than he would have liked. “I have been appointed to Council and asked to spy on the Chancellor. They want to use me to betray his trust.”

“But if the Council has reason to distrust Chancellor Palpatine, shouldn’t you listen to them?”

She could not know what it was. That sometimes there was no freedom in being a Jedi. 

She urged that it was an honor to be allowed to sit on the Jedi Council, and he could achieve such good there. 

But he knew it was a ruse. 

A Ploy. 

At least Obi-Wan was honest about it. They both could see what this made him. 

A pawn. 

Always a pawn to the Council. The Chosen One.


	2. Grave Concerns

“I’m worried about Ani,”

“Yes,” it was mutual. Padmé sat in her quarters, and Obi-Wan was gazing out the grand window. One of his hands rested over his mouth in his familiar gesture of deep thought and resounding upset. 

“Is it true the the Council expects him to spy on the Chancellor?”

“Yes,” this time a pause had preceded his answer. It was not a thing he was proud to admit, given his own seat among the Council. But it was something he thought not only important but essential. It was only unfortunate that Anakin was a victim. “Anakin is... uncharacteristically close with the him. Though the Council accepts this is a time of war, the Chancellor’s power has only grown in a manner that defies the very principles the Republic stands for.”

While she said nothing, he knew she agreed. The Chancellor had privately agreed - or appeared to agree - to a number of Senator Amidala’s proposals, but in Senate was always the figure of neutrality. And every time someone opposed his power, or wanted a change in the structure of Senate, legislation was distracted and the matter dropped. It had been years of this, and even more years of war. 

“He won’t talk to me,” her voice was soft, broken. Anakin loved her, they both knew that. But they had also both seen him grow distant. He would flip between being too demanding and being too apathetic. At first she thought it had been the stress of the war, or that he was still broken up about losing Ahsoka- there were too many things it could have been about. He’d seen too much. They all had. And his habit was to shut everyone out. 

Everyone but the Chancellor. 

“You have to speak with him Obi, you’re the only one he’ll listen to.” 

He had some distant thought, an echo of a voice as diplomatic as Padmé’s but not the same-  _You’re our only hope_. 

“The Council expects me to see the matters with Grievous through.” He paused, watching his former Padawan. Obi-Wan knew he wanted the mission before Council had assigned it and wondered how much of that had been at the insistence of the Chancellor. “It’s become a rather personal matter between Grievous and I- there’s no reason for anyone else to get involved.”

“I thought it was against the Code to form enemies.” Obi-Wan could not tell if it was humor of genuine criticism that colored Anakin’s tone. 

“There are two sides to any relationshipWhile it may be against the Code for  _me_ to form a vendetta, Grievous has no reason to withhold from making me his enemy, and he wouldn’t be the  first to do it.”

Anakin’s features darkened. 

He had been quite open about his displeasure when it came to Obi-Wan as a target. Maul and Ventress had been obvious examples of this but there were others who saw the great Negotiator as a personal nemesis. 

Anakin has only wanted to be involved because he cared- he saw no reason for Obi-Wan to constantly be in danger. His former Master has almost died on the mission to save the Chancellor- anyone else would have left him behind. 

“I would like to be there, Master. You always get in to trouble when you’re alone.”

Obi-Wan smiled, but his hand was still resting by his chin- he couldn’t shake his unease. 

“And I would like that you stayed here. _Rest_ , Anakin. This might be the only chance you get in a while. Spend time with Padmé.” 

He wondered if Anakin understood- if he realized he  _knew_ or if he was still convinced that the great secret Romance alluded him. It hadn’t when it lived up to that name, and it certainly didn’t now, though it had fallen into something strained. 

Anakin didn’t even realize. 

Padmé certainly did. 

When he had his nightmares, he woke terrified of losing his wife, who he loved. 

When she consoled him - or tried to - she knew she’d already lost him. 

She did not stop loving him, and she did not believe he had stoping loving her. But she did believe he was lost, and that the secrecy in which their marriage was born in was the only thing maintaining it. But it was more than that now. There was the child. 

She could always feel his fear as well as see it, but could do nothing to chase it away. She wanted to say the words she knew to be true. “Anakin you don’t love me.” Because he would fight her, and they would both be right. 

It wasn’t the same. It was never what either of them expected it to be. 

Maybe he reveled in the secrecy of it. It fit all too well with his penchant for rebellion. 

But she had just wanted him. She wanted the Anakin she loved. She knew secrecy was essential because of the Order. It’s why she wondered whether it had been worth it. 

Anakin didn’t think on the past. He only filled with fear of the future, and saw the facts of the present. 

Husband and Wife. 

Jedi and Senator. 

A child. 

He was having dreams. 

She would die. 

There was nothing he could do. 

She would Die. 

His Wife would Die. 

There had to be something. Being the Chosen One had to mean Something- it had to mean saving those he loved. 

His mother. 

Ahsoka. 

Obi-Wan. 

Padmé. 

Would he lose this child as well? Was this just another promise to be pulled from him at the moment of expectation?

He wouldn’t let it happen. 

Master Yoda didn’t know anything helpful- but when did he ever. He was always just cryptic and seemed so distrustful of his curiosity. Obi-Wan had taught him the benefits of stepping back and watching something, questioning it and observing it. Not that he  _listened_ because he didn’t have the patience, but anytime he brought a question to another member of Council, they looked at him like he was preparing to undermine the whole Order. 

They always recommended he meditate. 

“Think on this matter, young Skywalker. Provide answers, the Force will.”

It already had. 

Padmé dying, shown to him as clearly as his mother was. 

He couldn’t speak to Padmé about it. He never could.

And Obi-Wan was off world. 

The Chancellor didn’t provide answers, but he Hinted. That was more than the Council ever did. 

The Sith. 

Unlimited Power. 

None of it made sense. 

The Force. 

The Chosen One. 

Jedi. 

Sith. 

Compassion, Attachment, Master, Padawan- Dark and Light. 

All of it was muddled when at the end of it there was no saving those he loved.

When he wasn’t supposed to love in the first place. 

But what was life without others? Without those memories of his mother, the faith Qui-Gon had in him, Obi-Wan’s patience, Padmé’s love, Ahsoka-

He knew he would be worse off if he didn’t have them. Even the clones, the other Jedi, members of the Senate, other commanders and generals. It was horrible to look at the war as a way of bringing people together, but he had seen and experienced so much- it was impossible to appreciate anything impersonally. 

But why was that Dark? It was love and kindness and compassion-

He knew he was bad at controlling his emotions, bad at balancing things out like the Order commanded but there was so  much to life. Even Obi-Wan admitted that. 

It was always confusing. 

A way to save his wife. A Sith legend. He wished he could go to Obi-Wan for guidance. He wished Padmé trusted him. Something was different between them. She went to his old Master with her fears more openly than she did with him. But he supposed he did the same and could hardly criticize. 

But he knew it was meant to exclude him- 

Here he was, trying to prevent her death but knowing she would sooner confide in Kenobi than with him. It caused a strike of something through him. Jealousy? Loneliness? More Fear?

He was too tired- too angry with it all. The Chancellor was the only one to say something Different. He spoke of the Sith. He said it was unfair for Anakin to not be granted the rank of Master. He said Anakin had been cheated- he should have been the one sent after Grievous. He said it wasn’t wrong to care about Padmé. 

Anakin knew it was more than just her. 

Abord the ship, when Obi-Wan had been laying there, and the Chancellor urged Anakin leave him behind. 

Anakin had insisted they all suffer the same fate. He put the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate on the same level as Obi-Wan. He had left the Chancellor to fend for himself so he could carry his former Master. 

Everything was muddled. 


	3. Future of the Republic

It was the Chancellor. 

The Council was right- there was a Sith Lord behind it all. Behind every Senate decision, beside every Separatist one as well. He’d even had control amongst Jedi.

They were right. 

He wasn’t to be underestimated. 

Anakin knew he’d fallen for it. 

He’d told Master Windu, but wasn’t reassured, watching the man board a craft and leave. He was uneasy staying in the Temple. 

He felt useless. 

Obi-Wan was still gone. He knew if he’d been able to speak with him everything would have been alright. Even if he could have spoken with Ahsoka-

Padmé. 

He’d been told to stay where he was, but the thought of his wife. All of this had been for her. Saving her. 

“It’s the Chancellor.” 

She wasn’t there when he arrived. She was returning from a medical visit. Everything was looking good last he’d heard- but how long ago had she even bothered to give him an update? He couldn’t think about that now-

“Ani, what do you mean?”

He’d surprised her, standing on the landing bay when she’d arrived. He was looking out at Coruscant in his usual dramatic manner and she knew he was deep in thought. But this was the first he’d come to her in so long and she couldn’t push him away, though what his thoughts might have been frightened her. 

“The Sith Lord- it was the Chancellor. He’s been manipulating the Senate-“

“Oh Anakin, we have to do something-“

“I’ve informed Master Windu. He told me to stay in the Temple.” He didn’t explain why because he knew it was true. 

That same accusation always hurled at him. 

He was too close. 

Too close to the Chancellor. Too close to Padmé, to his Master, to his Padawan- his same weakness the Council had wanted to take advantage of to use him as a spy. Only the Chancellor has been taking advantage the whole time. He was too close. Too attached. 

Always too attached. 

“Ani, you can’t go after him- that’s not what-“

“Don’t lecture me on what the Council would want. I can’t just sit here.” Not when it was all his fault. His arms were crossed but he kept clenching his fist- his real hand, not the prosthetic. His anger wasn’t directed at her but he didn’t know what it was directed at. 

The Council?

The Chancellor?

_Everything_ ?

“I was going to say Obi-Wan.” Her eyes has widened in the usual shocked way they did, especially when he was accusing her 

or excluding her. 

Her voice was softer, hurt by his words, his abrasiveness. 

She wasn’t ever timid, but when it came to Anakin, a too familiar fear held her back. 

He left anyway and didn’t look at her as he did. 

But her thought stayed- what would Obi-Wan do in this matter?

The obvious answer is he wouldn’t have gotten himself into this situation in the first place. The Council would have trusted him and he would have trusted the Council. He wouldn’t have gotten too attached in the first place. 

But when Master Windu asked something of him, he did it. 

The Chancellor still made promises of Unlimited Power. Anakin could save her. He didn’t have to lose everyone. 

But if he didn’t listen he would lose everyone, he could  _feel_ it. The Chancellor didn’t care about the Jedi, he didn’t care about all the others- Obi-Wan would know that. He would listen. 

He had killed so many when he lost his mother. 

He had killed so many in the span of this war, in service to the Republic- which turned out to be Sith all along. 

He had killed upon command, even when Dooku could do no more harm. 

Somehow this was the easiest. Wielding his saber in front of a Sith Lord and a Jedi Master. 

This wasn’t for the Council, it wasn’t for the Senate. It wasn’t because he was terrified of losing Padmé. It wasn’t because he was angry. It wasn’t a victory. 

It was something between all of that.

Not a necessary evil, 

Just Necessary. 

Master Windu looked at him when the only sound left was that of his lightsaber switching off. 

The lights of the city planet continued to shine, as did distant planets and stars above, and the moving blur of hovercrafts. A city full of life and life forms. 

It was full of love and loss, happiness and commerce, families and friends who were as far from the scandals of Senate and Council as the Outer Rim. 

It was an odd moment for his mind to drift to what things might be like for normal civilians

For everyone not wrapped up in this same shit all the time- 

The intricacies of Council and Senate and Jedi and Chancellor meant nothing. 

It didn’t change who they were. 

They weren’t standing on a precipice- literally standing at the gaping window of the Senate building and on the edge of a moral dilemma. The stark decision between Dark and Light, and only a moment to decide. 

No. They had their Lives. They had their small moments of matter and meaning that amounted to so much more. To Happiness, to Life. 

He had switched the saber off. 

Master Windu looked at him. 

Neither of them spoke. 

The air smelled burnt from the electric singe of hair, skin and fabric. 

Anakin felt calm. Not at Peace- but he wasn’t impassioned. Stable. 

The Body laid at their feet, and two more lay further in the room. Anakin had seen the other Jedi struck down when he arrived. More destruction, more death. 

But it was over now. 

Padmé didn’t ask what happened next she saw him, but she held him in her arms. He didn’t speak. 

The Senate was surprisingly calm. Shock seemed to have promoted silence- not outrage. It was fear of the unknown, not fear over what has transpired. They had all been used. The whole Galaxy was Victim. 

Obi-Wan was briefed before he returned. The Chancellor, 

Senate

What this meant for the Republic

for the Jedi,

Anakin.

“He’s at the Temple.”

Obi-Wan hadn’t the chance to ask, but they both knew what he was there for. He’d caught Padmé alone again in seeking out Anakin. Lately he had always found her forlorn and pondering over personal matters. Now she sat at her desk, looking over legislation. There was much to do and she wasted no time. “He’s spent most of his time there.”

Obi-Wan waited again, knowing there was more to be said but not knowing how to ask. Padmé knew though. 

There was an unspoken understanding between them. Anakin was a bond they shared, a love they shared. They knew him like no others did, and knew each other through him. They shared fears and grievances as well as everything else. 

“He’s afraid, Obi-Wan.” She looked with him with open eyes. This was not how she looked as Senator Amidala. This was who she was behind that. 

And this was not him as the Negotiator, but as Obi-Wan. 

Anakin always has a way of stripping them down to their most honest selves, even when he wasn’t there. 

He was afraid. He was always afraid. He had always been afraid. But for that moment he hadn’t acted out of fear. It wasn’t out of fear of losing Padmé, or losing anyone else. He wasn’t sure what it was, which made him afraid  after the fact. 

He was meditating. 

He hated meditating. 

That was how Obi-Wan found him. 

“You hate meditating.”

“I know.”

He sat cross legged, posture too stiff. It looked unnatural, but he was trying. 

There was another beat of silence. 

What was there to say?

When Obi-Wan has seen some of the betrayal coming, had urged Anakin to spy for Council. But even then they were all fools in the end- the whole Republic but especially the Jedi. 

A Sith Lord right there beside them the whole time. Grooming Anakin, even, with his control of the Republic and working so perfectly to ensure a legacy. 

Sometimes, the luxury of subtlety could not be afforded. 

“Why are you afraid, Anakin? The Sith Lord is dead.”  _The Republic is safe_ could not be said, nor could any number of promises. 

The people are safe. 

You did the right thing. 

The war will end. 

Padmé will live. 

But the last one was his own fear- it was not one Obi-Wan had any say in. 

Anakin’s shoulders tensed and he dropped a heavy breath. He fell out of his posture. 

Obi-Wan’s arms were crossed but it was protective, not intimidating. 

Suddenly the meditation room felt much safer than it ever had, even when his thoughts weren’t. 

“I’m not afraid for the Republic. The people and what remains of the Senate will work through this.” He has seen in the Outer Rim the resilience in people. People were something he always had faith in. “And even the Order will persevere. With the end of this Darkness, people will need Light.” Obi-Wan heard something of his old Master in that. 

He wouldn’t admit to the personal fears he harbored- it would mean admitting to far more than just his thoughts of the Sith. It would mean all the other ways the he’d let his emotions rule him, the other things he’d never told Obi-Wan. He couldn’t admit that. Not yet- but maybe never. But he could admit

“I was so afraid. And I know that Fear leads to Darkness but I couldn’t find the answers-“  _and you were gone and I was alone_ , “I tried, Master. I tried to find another way-“

“Anakin,” 

Obi-Wan could feel a swirling of emotions. Their Force connection was strong- it had never weakened. There was something different to Anakin though. 

He did not know whether to cut him off or if he wanted to hear more. 

So much had happened. 

There was so much within his former Padawan. 

“I  _always_ try to find another way- to find my own way. I still think the Order is wrong-“ he stopped himself because he expected the Jedi to do it. 

But Obi-Wan said nothing. Anakin pressed on “but when I was standing there, with the Chancellor and Master Windu- I knew I had a choice. I knew it shouldn’t have been a choice but for a moment I got to decide my future. I thought I would be deciding to save everyone or lose everyone and I thought I would be angry. There was none of that though.” 

Anakin was still sitting. There was still something different. 

He looked small in the cavernous room, but he did not look unimportant. He did not look uncomfortable, but like he was a part of things. Not even grounded, but balanced. He was in tune with the flow of the Galaxy, but maybe not with himself yet. His connection with the Force was stronger than Obi-Wan had ever seen it. 

He was still Anakin. There was pride, there was fear, there was unchecked emotion, and limitless attachment. But there was something new-

“What changed?”

He looked like a kid again. Like when he was a teenage Padawan so proud for nailing a training routine, or so nervous in front of Padmé or in front of Council. He looked like the boy on Tatooine, whose future was so uncertain but who thrived on the dream of becoming a Jedi. 

“There was Hope.”

Things eventually settled, as they always do. 

Anakin was granted the rank of Master. The Council trusted him. Master Windu admitted he had long been deserving of both their trust and the title. 

Obi-Wan was beaming. 

Their one child turned out to be two- a boy and a girl born happy and healthy. Padmé lived. Anakin was by her side the whole time. 

It led to some dubious glances and a very poor cover story that Anakin, being an old friend of the Senator, was glad to assist so she might not be alone for childbirth, and so that her children might have a Jedi to look up to. Obi-Wan played that part more convincingly and could often be found assisting with one or both of the newborns. 

This was especially true because despite becoming a mother, there was no stopping Senator Amidala. The revelation of the Chancellor had made her all the more determined in her cause to push for Galactic Peace, and her support grew monumentally. She thought the process of change would be slow but most star systems were tired of the war and saw now who had really been profiting. 

Anakin did not cease questioning Council, but his status and his clear loyalty meant his oppositions were met with exasperation. He wasn’t shut out from things, he wasn’t denied by Council. 

However Master Windu did threaten to assign another Padawan if Master Skywalker didn’t stop derailing the Council meetings. 

The process of undoing the Sith’s damage was much slower, and the Jedi knew it would take years. There was an acknowledgement - no longer a fear - that it would be a fight lasting beyond some of their lifetimes. But with everything, there was a shift among Council. They too saw the resilience of People. They saw that trust can take things so much further than fear, even in times of uncertainty. 

There was a difference in the Galaxy, and a difference in the Order. 

They had less to fear. 

There was a new mindset, a new Determination. 

A new Hope. 

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I would write anything Star Wars related. I’m so sorry about any/all errors, I wrote this frantically and it’s not my usual style.
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://lowstandards.tumblr.com) if you want to, I’m trying to be more active with Star Wars stuff now


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